Mandylion
by bubblegum2000
Summary: Can you accept yourself if the others don't accept you? What determines your life? Your birth or your choices? Can you deny your own blood? [SANDCEST, GaaraTemari, spoilers: last chapters of the manga]
1. What are you dreaming of?

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto

So in this fic, the Akatsuki had extracted the demon from Gaara but he's still alive!

The thoughts of the characters are _"in italic and in quotes"_.

Mandylion is a song of my favorite band: The Gathering. It recalls me of the desert. If you listen to it, maybe you'll understand why :)

* * *

Chapter One

**What are you dreaming of?**

She was standing in front of his door, hesitant and not really sure of what she was doing here. She was nervous, she had been since he came back home. There was no sound in his room but she knew he was there. She had heard him come back when she was in the kitchen a little while ago. But the silence in there, could it mean that he was…?

Gulping, she turned the handle, half-opening the door. When nothing happened, she slipped into his bedroom and immediately closed the door. For several seconds, she didn't move. She was still facing the door, but this time she was inside his room. She was feeling stupid making a fuss about coming in her brother's bedroom. But she couldn't help herself. Eventually, she turned without a sound or a useless movement: she had to be careful.

Here he was, lying on his bed, asleep. The sight was still as terrifying as before even if she knew she wasn't risking anything anymore. There was no more demon to take the control of his body. She should feel safe. But she didn't. She had seen him asleep before and what had happened then, it was something she couldn't forget.

During several seconds, perhaps several minutes, she looked at him, almost petrified, her heart pounding. It was not as she had imagined it would be. When the Leaf ninjas had told her he was alive, she had felt relief and even joy. When they had told her that the Akatsuki had extracted the demon from him, she felt utter happiness: happiness for him, for her, for Kankurou. He was free now and so was everybody who lived with him. She had chosen to ignore the voice in her mind telling her that the village of Sand was now weak, that their Kazekage was nothing anymore. The demon which had ruined their lives for so long was gone: why should she worry?

But any feeling of rejoicing had been cut short as soon as she saw him for the first time after the extraction. Here he was, looking at them with the same usual expression, sand spinning aroud him as if nothing had happened. The sand, _his_ sand, this disgusting mixture of minerals and blood of his victims, was still in his control. At this moment, she understood: the demon was gone but Gaara was still there… He was still there with his damn gourd, his damn sand and now…

Who was he now? Who was the real Gaara? She didn't know. She had learnt to accept him when he was still the prisoner of Shukaku but now, who was he?

Eyeing suspiciously the gourd which was resting against the wall not far from his bed, she decided to approach him. Carefully, as silent as if she was in a enemy territory, she walked towards his bed. Glancing nervously at the gourd, she knelt down, her face a few inches from his. He wasn't looking peaceful or innocent. His brow was furrowed and his hands were clutching the sheets.

_- "What are you dreaming of Gaara?"_

He had changed over the years, he had grown up. He was still as pale as a ghost, but he was taller, less puny: she could see muscles under his dark shirt. He wasn't a boy anymore… he was becoming a man. Strangely, she didn't really like the idea.

His mark was partially hidden by his bangs and she realized she had never really touched him. She had carried him when he was hurt but that was not a real contact: it didn't mean anything. With a last nervous glance towards the gourd, she stretched out her hand. But as she was about to move his hair, his eyes opened suddenly and she froze instantly.

His eyes… still as beautiful as before and still as cold. His eyes… she could get lost into them and she hated that. He hadn't moved a bit, he was just looking at her. How long had he been awake? Since the beginning? What was he thinking about her now?

The situation was too awkward, too uncertain. She had to stop this: his gaze was so piercing and the pressure in her chest was almost painful… Instinctively, she looked at the gourd but as she was about to speak, she stopped dead. He had followed her eyes and he had understood. She saw a flicker of pain in his eyes but it disappeared as soon as it came.

He stood up abruptly. He wasn't looking at her and his voice was as cold and monotonous as before:

- "What do you want Temari?"

She was still knelt, staring at the creased sheets.

- "I… I wanted to tell you that I prepared dinner.

- I'm not hungry.

- The Hokage said that you had to regain your strength.

- I'm not hungry. I'm going to patrol.

- She said that you should rest.

- So why did you want to wake me?"

The question was simple, the answer was not. That's why she didn't say anything, that's why she didn't move. She saw him take his gourd and disappear in a cloud of sand, a cloud of sand and blood.

_- "Who are you Gaara? Why can you still control the sand? If it was because of the demon, then why had nothing changed?"_

Closing her eyes, she layed her hand on the empty sheets. She could still feel the heat created by his body. Suddenly, she wanted to lie on his bed, in the same place where he had been lying a few minutes ago. But she didn't dare because she didn't understand this sudden desire and because she didn't know him anymore.

So she left his room, casting a last glance at the bed before closing the door.

Because some things never changed.

* * *

Iknow that Gaara shouldn't have survived and that he shouldn't be able to control the sand but it's a fanfic and where's the fun if you can't change things?

If you have a time, a review would make my day.I want to know what you think about it! (No problems with criticism but flames are not necessary...)


	2. Who am I?

Chapter Two

**Who am I?**

He hated mirrors. They were always steamed up, always covered with fingerprints, never clean… He hated them and yet, he couldn't help standing in front of them, watching himself, examining every inch of his face. Every time he looked at the mirror, he tried to understand who he was but he couldn't find his answers and so every time, he was angry.

_- "Who am I? I'm Gaara, I'm human. I know it! So why? Why can I still control the sand? I'm human… The sand… why does he obey a human? Why does he obey me?"_

He could feel anger flowing through his veins.

- "Oh sorry!"

Temari had entered the bathroom rather abruptly. After all, people always lock the door when they are in the bathroom. But it was Gaara and Gaara wasn't like other people. Gaara was…

Who was he? Still the same questions… and still no answers.

She knew she shouldn't think like that. Gaara was her brother, he was the Kazekage, he was… normal now. He was just a human, a ninja with exceptional ability. She knew she should think like that. Except she couldn't.

He was watching her through the mirror, searching her eyes. Temari… She was afraid of him, he knew it, he could feel it. Maybe she was even more scared than before. Why? He was just human now, wasn't he?

Maybe he wasn't the demon she had been afraid of all these years… Maybe she had always been afraid of him. Maybe they all had been afraid of HIM, of Gaara. Was he the real demon? Could have he been able to control Shukaku? Was it his fault?

Looking at him through the mirror, she realized that, among the three siblings, he was the one who looked the most like their father. She felt a rise of bile in her throat: how awful it must be to look like the man who had made your life a living hell.

The expression of her face must have betrayed her thoughts because suddenly, Gaara was looking at her with terrible eyes: cold, angry and dangerous. Gasping, she stopped herself from stepping back: he would only make him angrier.

He has such an expression of venom, he seemed so furious… she didn't know what to do.

How long did they stare at each other?

He glanced at his own reflection, then at her again. And never taking his eyes off her, he banged his fist in the mirror, killing his reflection, killing her reflection… The sound of the glass breaking was sinister.

His hand still thrust in the now useless object, he was watching her. His blood was trickling down his arm, dropping on the floor. His blood… his blood of human.

_- "I'm Gaara, I'm human… I can bleed, I can feel pain. I'm human!"_

She was staring at him, shocked, confused and afraid. Why…? What had she done to make him so angry?

Slowly, he removed his hand from the mirror. She heard some pieces of glass falling down, but the only thing she could look at was his eyes.

And then, in the stifling silence, he left the bathroom.

- "Gaara…"

He didn't stop, he didn't flinch, he didn't blink when he heard his name falling from her lips. Her voice was a hoarse murmur and he could hear something beneath it, an emotion which looked like pain. Pain? Why would she be pained? No it was probably fear… it was always fear.

And so, she stood alone in the bathroom, her hand still gripping the door handle, looking at the small pool of blood on the floor… _his_ blood.

- "I'm sorry."

But he wasn't there anymore to hear her words.


	3. Is it painful?

A big thanks to amwong88!

* * *

Chapter Three

**Is it painful?**

One of the only things she liked in Konoha was the rain. She liked to watch the clouds gathering, changing from white to grey, from grey to dark. And then, the drops would start to fall and she would listen to the strange melody for hours. That was a bit silly, but she liked it. Probably because the rain was something she would never have here.

The only thing which was worth something in the desert was the stars. She was sure there was no other place in the world where you could see them so well. Here, they were shining so bright that they seemed to be closer to you.

When she was a child, she used to stretch her arm towards the sky. She knew she couldn't touch them but Temari was stubborn and so she kept dreaming that one day, she would touch them. That was silly, really.

But Temari had grown up and she had stopped stretching her arm towards the stars. Dreaming was nice but not when you were a ninja. Or maybe that was just growing up… Resting her head on her knees, she sighed heavily.

- "What are you doing?"

She jumped. Turning her head, her hand on her chest to calm her furious heart, she looked at Gaara. She made a face: she hadn't heard him coming. And even if Gaara wasn't a normal ninja, her ego had taken a blow.

Was she grimacing because of him? Did she despise his presence so much? Anger started to rise inside him as he watched her standing up.

She pretented to be too busy brushing her clothes to look at his face. But she caught a glimpse of his left hand: it was bandaged. The scene of the bathroom came back to her mind painfully and she couldn't help feeling guilty.

He noticed she was staring at his wounded hand. What was she thinking?

When she lifted her head, her eyes fell directly into his. They were still so cold. It was hard to look away when he was staring at her like that. It was one of his trademarks: the unreadable look, the aquamarine eyes piercing through your soul. She hated it and at the same time… well maybe it was better he looked at you like that than he didn't look at you at all. But really, she wasn't sure.

- "Is it painful?"

He raised an eyebrow. No, really, he hadn't changed.

- "What?

- Your hand… is it painful?

- No."

She knew he was lying. This moron had banged his fist in a mirror, of course it was painful! She felt anger rising inside her: why was he doing that? Acting like he wasn't human? Was it because of her? Because she was still afraid of him?

But no! that was too easy. Why would she be the only one to be blamed? It was his fault if he was acting like… like what? A kid? A dropout who wanted people to look at him, to accept him? She was unfair and she knew it.

- "Let me see."

And at this moment, when she stretched her arm to take his wounded hand, when she approached him to touch him, she saw a flicker of panic in his eyes. But before he had the time to step back, she caught his hand. She saw him wince with pain but her victory was bitter. She waited for the sand to throw her away but nothing came.

He was looking at her wide-eyed and for the first time, she saw all his fears, all his doubts reflecting in his eyes. They were fascinating when they were cold and unreadable; filled with emotions, they were sublime.

- "What… what are you doing?"

His voice was shaking, half with anger and half with fear. But she didn't let go of his hand. If she stopped now, then nothing would never change, she would never know him, she would never stop fearing him.

- "What are you doing?"

His tone was harsher and he tried to free his hand. But she knew he wasn't really trying.

- "I'm touching you.

- Stop that!

- Why? It's what humans do, Gaara. They touch each other.

- And why that?

- Because… because… I don't know. Because they need it. You need it too, don't you?"

He was panting, his mind was swirling. Why was she doing that? Wasn't she afraid of him? Why was she touching him? She didn't understand! She had to stop!

- "Gaara."

Finally, he broke the contact with a jerk of his arm. Stepping back, he was staring at her.

_- "It's what humans do, Gaara."_

_- "You need it too, don't you?"_

He disappeared in a cloud of sand.

Standing alone in the night, in the middle of nowhere, she understood that things had changed. She didn't know what exactly but his eyes, his hand in hers…something had changed. She had seen the real Gaara for the first time, the one without Shukaku inside him. And now…now she wanted more.

Like a moth catching a glimpse of light and flying desperately towards it, Temari wanted to come closer to Gaara.


	4. What happened Temari?

- First, thanks for the reviews: they made my day.

- Second, sorry it took so long to update but I've been lazy lately. And busy (university).

- And third, a big thanks to Wickerwood who edited the chapter!

* * *

Chapter Four

**What happened, Temari?**

He who has never been lonely cannot understand.

The pain when someone you care about betrays you, rejects you. No, he can't understand.

You are lonely, so lonely… so miserable. You can't stand others anymore. Because you see them but they don't see you… they don't want to. You make efforts but they don't care.

You're lonely, so lonely… And you can't stand them but at the same time, you still want to be with them. Because this solitude…

He who had never been alone can't understand how painful it is. He doesn't know what it is to look at the people living happily… without you.

And you try so hard to reach them.

And then, another betrayal. And you can't stand it anymore. Your hearts stops bleeding, it becomes cold and hard. You wrap your pain in a shell of indifference. Sometimes, it's a shell of hatred. You stop caring about others.

You're still lonely, but this time you want it.

And so you reject them when they try to reach out to you. Because it's too late. You're cruel, you want them to know that you don't need them anymore. You don't want them to reach you, to touch you.

But you want them to.

You still look at them with envy, your heart is still bleeding despite the shell and it's worse than before because now, you hate them.

You want to be alone but you don't want to. You want them to touch you but the slightest idea of one of them caring for you is inconceivable. You don't want to care for them, and you want to… you need to.

Temari doesn't know what she did. She doesn't know the harm she has inflicted with her hand… her hand around his hand. Temari doesn't understand. She opened a door by force and now…

He who has never been alone cannot understand the fear and the hope one feels when someone takes your hand… finally.

* * *

Water was boiling with rage and vapour was escaping from the pan profusely. But Temari was too engrossed in her thoughts to notice it. She was staring at the wall blankly, her mind swirling with thoughts of Gaara. Since their "encounter" under the stars, she couldn't stop thinking of him, his eyes, his pain. Their encounter… yes, maybe it was the best word to describe what happened that night. She had seen the true Gaara for the first time but what had he seen?

"Are you going to wait until the pan is empty?"

Kankurou's mocking voice stopped her daze. Hastily, too hastily, she took the pan, spilling the boiling water on her hand. She didn't yell despite the pain but she threw the pan away angrily and put the burnt hand to her mouth. She heard Kankurou chuckling and she glared at him, her anger directed towards him now.

But Kankurou was her brother and there was just something wrong when she was looking at him. She was feeling nauseous. Was it shame? Was it guilt? She went to the sink to pass her hand under fresh water and ease the pain. And to have a good reason to not look at him.

Because, truthfully, Kankurou had been the one who had made the most of efforts with Gaara. When their younger brother (God! She really felt like vomiting now) had become Kazekage, Kankurou had been his greatest ally and supporter: always there to help him, to approve him, to defend him… For Kankurou, Gaara was a little brother. Kankurou cared for Gaara. He really did.

"It has been 3 days now."

Of course, he mentioned the subject. Closing her eyes painfully, her voice was dry when she replied and she knew it was not because of the thirst.

"I know."

Three days… three days since Gaara hadn't come home. Three days since their "encounter"…

"Today after the council, I asked him why he didn't want to come home. He didn't answer."

He chuckled bitterly. She didn't say anything. Guilt was crushing her.

"And I think he hasn't slept for three days."

Her eyes snapped open and she looked at Kankurou. That was a mistake: he was now watching her closely, searching an answer in her tormented eyes. She looked away.

"What happened Temari?"

He knew something! But how? No, it was impossible! He couldn't know anything! Her heart was racing with panic and she tried to control her breathing.

"Answer me, what happened?"

_Stop it!_

"Nothing."

She could still feel his piercing eyes on her face but her voice was perfectly neutral. Almost too neutral.

"So Gaara had exploded the mirror just for fun, eh?"

So he knew about that.

"He just got angry."

"Why?"

"I don't know!"

Her voice was rising up quickly. Anger is often the only defense of humans after all.

"You were present and you don't know why he went ballistic?"

"The door was open and I saw him break the mirror. That's all!"

She was now looking at him fiercely, daring him to say anything more. They stared at each other for a long time: it was like a fight and the teaching of their sensei came back to their mind.

"_Never show your emotions."_

"_You must watch your enemy closely. The key to the victory can be in his eyes."_

Funny, Gaara had always been the best at that.

Eventually, he broke the staring contest and went away. Snorting, he stopped when he reached the door.

"The Council doesn't trust him."

"I know."

"You don't trust him either."

"That's not true!"

"Yeah… Whatever you say Temari."

She heard the door slamming but she didn't move. The water was still flowing, her hand was painful and blisters were already appearing.

How can you trust someone you don't even know?

* * *

Tonight, there were no stars. A sharp wind was blowing and big clouds were hiding the moon, obscurcing a bit more of the cold desert. But it wouldn't rain. It never rained here.

Sighing, she looked around. She had thought that maybe he would be there tonight, at the place of their "encounter" (maybe confrontation was more appropriate) but there was no one except her. And it was logical after all: why would he come back here, after what happened?

_"What are you doing?"_

_"Stop that!"_

His shaky voice was still resonating in her head, his panicked eyes were haunting her. And guilt… guilt was crushing her, smothering her. She shouldn't have done that, to force him to share whatever they had briefly shared that night. She regretted it… and at the same time, maybe she didn't. She was confused. _And you Gaara… are you confused? Are you upset? Or just angry?_

She heard him approaching this time. She waited for him to speak but nothing came so she turned round, feeling a bit worried but not really scared. He looked straight at her, his eyes cruel and merciless. But she didn't look away. She had come here to ask him to come back home and she was determined to do it.

Kankurou was right, he probably hadn't been sleeping for three days. He had dark rings under his eyes and he seemed to be a bit paler than usual. But she wasn't sure, as the moon was playing hide and seek with the clouds.

"Gaara, you have to come home."

Her voice was gentle, not pleading but gentle.

She saw a myriad of emotions in his eyes: surprise, maybe disbelief and something like lunacy. Lack of sleep was already starting to act on his mind. But she didn't step back and she kept looking at him.

But then his eyes were cold again.

"Home?"

His voice was deep and full of sarcasm. She felt shivers up her spine.

"Gaara, you have to sleep."

She hesitated to mention the Council. She gave up finally: he didn't need her to tell him that his people didn't trust him, even after all he'd done for them.

"This is my home Temari."

"What?"

She stared at him incredulously.

"The village of Suna is my home."

She gaped at him. For the first time, she understood why Kankurou was so admirative of Gaara the Kazekage. She had been wrong: he had changed.

"The desert is my home too."

The smile that was forming on her lips died immediately and panic struck her as she felt sand coiling around her.

No! Not normal sand! It was his sand… his filthy sand mixed with blood. The odour was nauseating. Her eyes filled with tears. _Why?_ He was still looking at her, impassive. The sand was gripping her legs and her wrists tightly. She couldn't move anymore. With horror, she felt it climbing towards her neck.

"Gaara!"

Her voice was broken, her eyes panic-stricken. Suddenly, she felt sand grazing her neck, almost caressing her. Gaara's expression had changed: he was watching her closely, searching something in her eyes, on her face.

His eyes roamed all over her body and she felt something contracting in her abdomen.

"Why do you want me to sleep?"

She hesitated to answer, as the sand was still playing around her neck. But she didn't want to make him angrier.

"We are worried about you."

He raised his eyes to look straight at her.

"Why that?"

_"And why that?"_

"_Because… because… I don't know. Because they need it. You need it too, don't you?"_

_"Don't you?"_

"Because you are our brother."

The words had a bitter taste on her lips and she wondered if he had felt it.

But he seemed to ignore her answer and his eyes started to wander on her body again. No, not her body she realized: he was staring at her right hand which was bandaged. Something struck her then. She didn't know exactly what it was but her right hand was hurt and so was his left hand. And it should have been something totally trivial but it was not.

She felt the sand carressing her burnt hand briefly and then, she was on her knees, as the sand had abruptly released her.

"But you're not my sister, Temari."

Wide-eyed, she raised her head to look at him but he was already gone.

_"But you're not my sister."_

* * *

A review pleaaaaaaaaase!


	5. So this is it?

First I'd like to apologize for the total lack of update. I know I suck and I don't even have good excuses besides the infamous writer-block.

Second, thank you for your reviews. They make my day.

* * *

Chapter Five

**So this is it?**

So this was how it worked now. Sir Gaara, the almighty Kazekage, the genius who could control the sands, create a desert in the middle of a forest, the boy who had cohabited with a demon for years, who had survived this forced cohabitation and then its destruction, Gaara, the one who had enough determination to not sleep for years and years, Gaara, the spitting image of _her_ father was denying her as a sister.

Wonderful she thought, and she destroyed the rock in front of her with a single movement of her fan, her anger increasing her power, the violence of her actions only fuelling her rage. It was unfair, the way he was rejecting her; it was cruel and unfair. Gaara was redefining the concept of family, after having destroyed every bond that had once linked the members of _her_ family. He was even stealing Kankurou from her, as if taking _her_ mother had not been enough already.

How could he know what a sister was supposed to be? Kankurou was following him blindly so everything was fine; he had the right to be called "brother". What should she have done? Licked Gaara's blood to prove him she wasn't afraid of him? What did he want exactly? What kind of sister was she supposed to be?

She pulverized another rock in front of her and suddenly, destroying stone wasn't enough. She wanted to create a sandstorm, make this whole desert disappear, _his home_ as he had called it yesterday with so much assurance. His home… Fine, let the desert be his home she thought bitterly. She didn't want to live with one lizard and two cactuses for sole companions anyway. Let him control the sands, let him break all the mirrors of the village; she didn't care, she had the winds to dance with.

Another stone exploded not far from her and clouds of sands and dust started growing at her feet. She could be strong too; she could call this desert her own and mask the sun in the middle of the day. She was Temari of the desert, daughter of the previous Kazekage and she didn't give a damn whether she was considered as the sister of the current one or not.

---

When the sun started setting a few hours later, Temari was still angry and she still wanted to destroy everything. She was a bit cold too and this, she knew, meant she had been a fool and stayed too much time under the sun, the one she could mask with golden clouds of sand if she wanted to.

When a few minutes later, the earth started shaking under her feet, Temari realized she couldn't possibly do this and despite her fever running high, she understood immediately that Gaara was playing toy soldiers in his desert and that the gust of wind in her back was a vague of sand falling upon her. Did he hate her that much that he wanted to kill her? In Gaara's definition of family, did failing as a sibling mean dying?

As night was falling too quickly to be natural, Temari found herself caught between paralyzing fear and resolute determination. She would not die. She would not let him kill her. She would not die. She could stop him. She was strong too, she could summon, she could create tempests, she could survive this… she would survive him. She operated her fan, her movements perfect, strong, efficient; aiming to shatter the wall of sand falling upon her, the wind blew.

Gaara owned the desert. That, she thought as she closed her eyes, was something she had always known.

---

She woke up to coldness and shivers, in darkness she recognized as her bedroom and a relative comfort that smelled like her pillow. She tightened the thin sheet around her, craving for heat, as memories came flooding back. That little piece of trash had wanted to scare her, building a shield around her with his disgusting sand just before the wave hit her. Feverish and furious, she looked round the room to find a blanket, a discarded piece of clothes, anything that would warm her. That's when she spotted his gourd, carefully leant against her wall and anger tinted with panic struck her. Gaara was there.

"Get out of here!"

She may be sick but she still could bark and, she swore to the Gods, she would bite him if he didn't obey. She heard a rustle at her right and she awkwardly stretched her neck out to look at him. He was hidden in the shadows and she had the sudden urge to yell, to insult him, to stand up and throw him out of her home by herself, to show him how sisterly her feelings towards him were right now!

"I said get out!!!"

"I'm the Kazekage."

_And you are nothing_, he didn't add though Temari got it perfectly. She nearly chocked with indignation and tried to get up but a sudden movement of Gaara froze her. As he left the shadows, she had a disagreeable sensation of déjà-vu, as if she was watching a horror movie and the monster had just decided that lurking around was not fun anymore. Usually, it was the moment the audience was waiting for but Temari wasn't so sure now. The illusion of the cinema, she thought bitterly.

"They said you had to rest. You're sick."

"Fuck you!"

He responded to her venom with raised eyebrows. The gesture was so patronizing, so mocking and superior that Temari lunged at him to slap him.

The sand pushed her back into the mattress brutally.

"Little…"

The feeling of his hand against her forehead cut her diatribe short. He was warm; he was so impossibly warm that she felt like crying.

"Your skin is hot."

He was talking as if she was an animal -or maybe even lower- and she was cold, so cold. It was unfair; unfair and cruel.

"I'm cold", she moaned pitifully and he kept his hand against her front.

She hated him, more than anyone else in the world, more than Orochimaru or the Akatsuki, more than everything. She hated his being her brother, his rejecting her, his body heat and her weakness, his way of touching her with his filthy sand and now his filthy hand; she hated him, hated him, hated him…

"I'm so cold."

She wanted to plead, to beg for some warmth, for his body heat; she had too much pride.

She wanted to shove him out, to slap his damn hand away from her face, to twist his wrist; her head came to rest against his chest.

Under her sweaty cheek, she felt the muscles of his abdomen tense and a smell different from blood hit her nostrils: the desert. The raw, familiar smell of the desert.

That's right; he had tried to kill her.

"I hate you."

It was half a moan, half a sob and she was cold, so cold and he smelled good and he was warm and God, how she hated him…

His hand slipped into her hair and went down to her neck, the contrast of temperatures sending jolts of electricity through her whole body. His hand lingered for a few seconds and then, she was alone, colder than before, and shaking, shaking so much.

She had touched him more in the past five minutes than in her whole life and yet, she hadn't even realized it.


End file.
